Dib is Hunted
by SaintHeartwing
Summary: Dib must contend with a unique challenge...a living galaxy that's been hired to kill him known as the Huntsman! Can he overcome a challenge the likes of which he's never endured before? Will he survive? Or will Earth end up falling to Zim, with Dib having been made into a living galaxy's dinner?
1. Chapter 1

Why don't you explain to me WHAT you have to offer?"

He sat across from the alien, looking quietly amused, his pale blue eyes glittering in the light of the dark back room of the bar that the Irken alien Invader Zim had foolishly entered. Zim's ruby/maroon eyes glittered a bit like gemstones as the green, faintly scaly-skinned alien's black antannae flattened against the side of his head and he nervously rubbed the back of his little neck with his black-gloved hands...while HE calmly folded his arms over his well-built chest, eyes of Trojan Blue continuing to stare...and stare...and stare.

"I know perfectly well you've been approaching other mercenaries and bounty hunters. They've all rejected you. What could you possibly have to offer me?" The faintly ethereal voice inquired. Zim shuddered a bit, there was something slightly unnatural about this being. Everything about him seemed to radiate pure, barely-restrained power, with a faint undercurrent of sinister intent. He was looking at the Irken as though he was a dog he would have to put out of its misery, and was trying to be sweet about it and entertain its silliness before he took it behind the woodshed.

"I know y-you're only interested in the greatest of challenges! And-and the finest prey! The-the best planets!" Zim stammered out, regaining his confidence. "The planet that ZIM has been told by his Tallest to conquer is the greatest! For they chose the greatest Invader! Greatness runs in my veins, calling upon me to conquer it! DO NOT IGNORE MY VEINS!" He demanded, holding up his arms, clenching his teeth and his eyes shut tightly, as the being across the little circular table they sat at looked on, amused.

"...so you believe this planet has worthy warriors who might actually be of some interest to me, is that it? I assure you, I've fought many, many fools who believed themselves capable fighters."

"The one I want you to fight, my rival, is..." Zim hesitated. "...almost as good as Zim." He said, and it sounded as though he had garbage in his mouth, and would have sooner choked on his own tongue than admit it. The admission was beyond painful, but if it got what he wanted, well...

"...go onnnn." The being said, its tone quieter, more contemplative. An Irken admitting that a non-Irken was almost just as good as them? That never, ever happened. Especially not a dye-in-the-wool, head-up-his-own-ass idiot like ZIM. Zim had an ego larger than an asteroid, and his unpleasant attitude had made him almost want to ignore the Irken's requests. Or rather, constantly following him around, saying his name before he'd finally turned around and glowered, asking "Why have you been following me for two hours straight?!"

"The...Dib...is a young man who has managed to thwart my plans over and over. He regularly destroys or works through my greatest technology and continues to be a thorn in Zim's side. He will be a perfect challenge for you. His planet has no idea aliens even exist, he may be the only one besides his sister, and this makes him all the more dedicated to defeating me. That makes him almost as passionate in his drive as ZIM." Zim insisted, putting a hand on the reddish, three-striped outfit he had, an "Invader's Gown" as it were, crossing his legs, black boots riding high.

"Do not get me wrong, I enjoy a good challenge, and I've not eaten in quite a while, but..." The being hesitated. "...what else have you to offer me?"

Zim hesitated. This would be the lynch-pin. The one thing that he could potentially give that would get his new ally to go along with him if all else failed. "I have also heard you...are searching for your sister."

The air in the room seemed to get very, very cold. The being sitting across from him stiffened, his eyes becoming near-slits as he dug his claws slightly into his arm. "...go...on." He whispered quietly. "...but be very wary of what you say, for if you were to displease me, I assure you, you won't make it out of this bar in one piece. Or even two pieces. Or three...five...twelve..." He trailed off threateningly. "Really, it depends on how much would be left for the coronors to examine. The last fool who tried to give me fraudulent information about where my sister was, well...this was the biggest piece I left of him."

The being calmly reached into his chest, and Zim could see his hand passing through it, as if like water before taking out a series of photographs, putting them down upon the table as Zim covered his mouth with his gloved hands, a digusting shade of orangish/green bathing over his face.

"You will note what I removed from him. Before...after. Before...after." He said, flipping the various photographs up and down, showing various shots of the faintly elflike man's body, and then...what remained afterwards. "I believe the largest piece was the size of your thumb. _I don't like being lied to_ , Irken Zim."

 **"The Tallest took her!"** Zim squeaked out in a squeal, covering his face and quivering in his seat, shaking like a leaf. "The-the Tallest have her locked up within a secret facility, I-I found out the coordinates because its located in a hyper security prison I've g-got a connection to, this...this prisoner sends me cool stuff when I ask him to!" Zim whimpered. "I can g-give you the coordinates if you'll just do this for me!"

Silence. Long...long...silence. And then...

"Very well. Give me the coordinates. I will verify my sister is there, and if she is...I will return to break her out after I have dealt with your..."Dib"." The being said. "I'm a man of my word, Zim. You have my word of honor that I will fight against the human and claim him with all my power. I will not go easy upon him, and you will then be free to take over that little planet of yours, uninterrupted by pesky Earthling interlopers. We have a deal?" He asked, extending a clawed hand.

Zim took it, and shook, piercingly blue eyes staring into ruby-maroon.

"You've now earned my very valuable services, Zim of Irk. Just one more thing before I ask of the location of my sister. The location of the Dib. Where does he live?"

-

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and Dib was finally on his own...well, sort of.

He'd moved down the street from his old house, all for one purpose: to be closer to Zim. It helped that he'd asked his father, Professor Membrane, for a house with a lab extension in the name of "real science". Dib said it was to study the stars and map the constellations, analyze planets far, far away and keep an eye on celestial bodies. He was being half truthful. He WAS very interested in extraterrestrial affairs, just...not what his father had in mind.

And so the black-haired, jacket-wearing young teen was now having his furniture arranged in his new house, boxes and boxes being brought in by big, beefy meaty movers as the head mover adjusted the do-rag atop his head. Dib sat in a nearby chair, slicking the scythe-like extension of hair he had back, waiting for them to finish as he looked out the nearby window a bit, then back at the chief mover.

"That's the last of them, Mr. Membrane. We'll let your father know you're all set up. The big telescope and all the heavier stuff are in that extension in the west wing, the fridge is installed, and we've moved your bed in but, well..." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking around the barren-walled room, at the plain wooden floors, at the many, many boxes lying around. "You got someone to help you unpack all of this, right?"

"Oh, yeah, sure!" Dib lied through his teeth, shaking the man's hand, giving him a nod as he and the mothers headed for the oak front door, leaving Dib alone in the room as he sighed and hung his head. No. No he didn't. Dib was barely eating, barely sleeping, tired...and alone. Gaz was having run of the house, no doubt, and having the time of her life. She'd probably already turned his old bedroom into a new playroom for her to play Game Slave 360 and her other old consoles in. He scratched over his chest, over the "Apathy face" blue t-shirt he wore beneath his dark jacket and sighed, blinking his amber/golden eyes behind his large glasses.

So much packing to do. And all on his own.

"UGH! Keep it down in there! Some of us gotta work the f-kin' night shift!"

Dib blinked, hearing someone complaining outside in his front yard and he went to the door, opening it up, seeing an aggravated, irritated-looking man in a tight-fitting white shirt and khaki shorts who was glaring at him, the aggravated, bearded forty-something giving Dib a glare. "Ain't you the kid who somehow called up ZOMBIES on Halloween?!" He grumbled, looking Dib over, glaring at the child.

"I, uh, moved! Sorry about the racket. Dad wants me to, y'know. Be more independent! REAL SCIENCE and all that." Dib remarked with what he thought was a nice smile.

"I don't care if you're his son, or a kid." The man grumbled. "I gotta work for a living. If I oversleep or if I'm late for work, it'll be your ass, DIBBUN MEMBRANE." He told Dib, giving him a baleful glare. "And don't think for one minute that I care who your f-kin' father is!"

With that, he stormed off, Dib cringing a bit. That was a level of vitriol he'd never gotten from an adult before. He saw the man head down the sidewalk as slow clouds ambled overhead and he sighed. "...nice to meet you too." He mumbled.

"See ya met D. Snuchts."

"What?"

"Mr. Dimitri Snuchts." Gaz said, Dib realizing his sister was there, looking amused by all this, her hands in her thick jean pockets, her skull necklace hanging around her neck, loose and floppy, purple hair in locks as though it was a giant set of jaws trying to snap down over her head. "That's his name. D. Snuchts."

"That's silly, it **can't** be his real name!" Dib said, looking back in the direction that angry man had gone, then at Gaz as she smirked.

"His last name's RUSSIAN, Dib. What, does Russian sound silly to you?" She asked with a laugh. "Tell ya what, try telling it to his face his name is silly. See how he reacts. Then again, maybe you'd better do it later."

"After he's back from work?"

"Work? That's a laugh. He never gets further than the pub." Gaz snorted. "Anyhow, I'm here to tell you I turned your room into a new bathroom! Got this HUGE jacuzzi where your bed was. Have fun unpacking!"

Dib stammered, Gaz giving him a playful wave as she waltzed around, then covered his face. "OHHHHHH!" He groaned out, shaking his head back and forth. "SONOFA!"

...

...

...

...The night began to descend down upon the city, many beautiful stars glimmering in the dark sky above. The moon was but a sliver tonight, casting only faint layers of light onto the many bridges that crisscrossed around the city. A singular woman was making her way out of the bar, quietly sighing, looking down at her phone, mumbling a bit. It had been a long, boring day, and she just wanted to get home. She had no idea someone was watching from down a nearby alley, wearing a grimy, greasy jacket, his face stubby and unwashed, gripping an ugly-looking knife.

"Dirty little whore! T-Teach you to...tease me, c-can't lead people on like that!" The man grumbled darkly, unaware of the form hidden in the shadows, slinking towards him, closer...closer. "Gonna cut you from belly to neck-"

The 42-year-old woman's earrings jangled as she walked down the sidewalk, passing underneath a streetlamp before she heard a faintly muffled "GAAH" that briefly rang through the air. She quivered and shook, hearing the unmistakable sound of thumping and squirming, a body desperately trying to squirm its way out of someone's grip...and failing miserably. Horribly. Her blue eyes were wide in horror, her skin growing goosebumps as she slooowly turned the corner...

There, holding the man tightly into its body, keeping him from getting free, half-buried in its starry, black-formed skin, was what appeared to be a slice of the night sky come to life. It had a horned head, with beautiful gems, three in fact, embedded in its forehead and large circular gemstones in a necklace around its neck. It had a very well-developed and mighty frame, with sharp claws instead of hands, and faintly taloned feet as it gazed upon her, its eyes a piercing, haunting light blue color that made her gasp in sheer fright.

"There are bad people out tonight." The alien informed her. "I suggest you go home." He said, his voice dark, faintly ethereal, and for some reason, it reminded her of Ron Perlman. She nodded enthusiastically, her eyes bulging wide as she gripped her purse for dear life, and then bolted down the street, the Huntsman then forcibly ripping the man's head out of his body, putting a clawed hand over his mouth so he couldn't speak.

"You will be as quiet as possible. And you will listen to the will of The Huntsman, for you are his quarry tonight, and it is unwise to resist." He whispered low and soft into the man's ear, seeing his eyes wide with sheer terror, the rest of his body almost completely sealed away inside of his starry form. The man smelled like a brewery. A stench the Huntsman knew very, very well, a stench he was familiar with. The outer dregs of a society always resorted to the bottom of a bottle when nothing else could fill the void in their lives. And when that didn't work, they'd turn to crime. Those with little to lose had a bad tendency to throw their lives away in foolish, petty concerns. He, a living galaxy, had MUCH to live for, and this meant he had to be careful.

The man whimpered, the Huntsman's clawed grip tightening a little.

"I could open your skull up without even really thinking about it. And do you know what I would do then?" The Huntsman asked, calmly placing a single claw atop the man's reddish-haired head, tracing a circular cut eveeeeer-so-slightly.

"N-No..." The man squeaked out.

" **Eat your brains**. I wouldn't have to eat all of them, of course. You see, I've learned some fascinating techniques from studying wasps, in fact. They have this fascinating skill of making sure their prey stays alive even as its being devoured, you just have to eat JUUUUST the right parts, and leave just enough alive. I imagine I could...oh...maybe take a little off the top here..." He poked one part of the man's head. "Then here..." He poked another part. "And then maybe a little here before-"

"Nnnn! NNNNN! _NNNnnooooooo_!" The man was now on the verge of peeing his pants, the Huntsman's voice becoming quiet and persuasive.

"But...I have a code to adhere to. I do not feed upon a planet's inhabitants unless I've beaten the best warriors they have to offer in combat. As hungry as I am, I want to be fair. So I'll offer you this little deal. I have your scent."

He lowered his clawed hand from atop the man's head, and picked up the man's chin as his other hand sloooowly traced itself down the cheek, tracing a cut line, Trojan blue eyes staring peircingly into deep brown. "You will turn yourself in. You will get help with your little alcohol problem. Your body STINKS of it, you've been probably drinking five beers a day."

"S-Six!" The man admitted through his chattering teeth. "Y-Yes sir, absolutely sir!"

"Because if I smell your scent anywhere near me again, next time, well..."

The Huntsman trailed off, slowly letting him go, putting him on the sidewalk, glaring down at him, and showing a big, fanged grin. The man screamed in terror, racing away down the road, the Huntsman grunting a bit, clutching at his gut. He had been so very hungry. So hungry. Yet he had sworn to himself he would not feed until he had defeated the one named Dib. He had his integrity to uphold. The Huntsman considered himself a being of honor, and no matter how hungry he got, he couldn't just go wild and devour any random human in the street. He was not some disgusting, mad dog.

But it was time for him to check in on Dib Membrane, and he easily leapt up onto the roofs, leaping across them with ridiculous ease, the ten-foot-tall horned being striding easily towards his destination as he finally came to a halt in front of a house that had a little observatory set up in its west-hand side, a large telescope sticking out of a circular rooftop. The Huntsman slid down the roof he laid on, easily bounding over the fence and sneaking up to the back door, where the kitchen laid.

Hmm. Locked. And bolted. Clever. But the camera peering down from above the door was a fake. Made to look real, to scare off intruders, but...a sham. He could recognize it clearly with his keen vision.

He focused intensely, holding up a clawed hand as light blue energy began to form in his palm. He wanted something small for this, and he slid the energy into the keyhole, then pulled it out...as it molded itself into the key he wanted. Smiling to himself, he slid it in, unlocking and unbolting the door, creeping on inside and closing it up, making his way towards a snoring form in the living room.

There laid the human underneath a big white comforter, the bed still not carried into his bedroom, most of the boxes still not yet unpacked, a few posters like "I Really Wanna Believe" showing a 'Grey' alien underneath green words, and glasses flopped off the couch the young human slept on. His chest, bare, rose and fell as he half-snored, half whistled in his slumber, his hair messy from slightly tossing and turning...

The Huntsman stiffened.

This was not a young man.

He was but a boy.

A child.

He couldn't have been older than fourteen. The Huntsman hesitantly approached, looking down at the child's slowly rising and falling frame, at the little nose, at the adorable little alien pajamas he was wearing, faintly visible just above the bit of blanket he was sleeping under. The living galaxy covered his face in his hands.

 _A child._

He couldn't do this to a child. He'd NEVER killed a child.

What was he going to do?

...

...

...

... "Sir! Sir!"

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK!

"Ughhh. I'm awake, I'm **awake!** " Dib moaned out, struggling to sit up, cringing as he put his glasses on after rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "I'm up, I'm up!"

"This is the police, sir! We need to speak with you!" Came the authoritative voice from outside.

"I'll be right the-" Dib began to say, turning around to look around his room, his glasses now on, fully awake, and seeing, much to his surprise...all of the boxes had been unpacked. The tables had been laid about, the recliner was placed out, the bookcase, the TV, his video collection, his bed, all of it had been moved. His house now looked...normal. Livable. And a little note laid on the table before him, written with a pen that laid nearby.

"A gift for you. My apologies for breaking into your home."

Confused, he rose up, heading for the front door and opening it up, two well-dressed police officers looking down at him. "Oh. It's **_you_**." The first one grumbled, rolling his eyes.

"Aren't you that kid always complaining about "Zam" or the like?" The second one asked. "Didn't you once call us to your home saying he had tried to launch himself through your window?"

That one had been a funny incident. Zim had, in fact, intended to shoot himself into Dib's room via a cannon. Dib had simply opened up his window...then opened up the window across from it, and waited. Sure enough, Zim had flown clear through BOTH of them, hitting that awfully-conveniently placed honeybee hive outside, screaming in terror and yelling "NOT THE BEES! AAAAA!" As he uselessly flailed around, caught in the tree branches for a good half an hour before finally falling down. Dib had decided to cancel his call to the cops when he realized that hive had been right across from his room. It still aggravated the operator, since Dib was a FREQUENT caller.

"I'm, uh...trying to have a fresh start. New house and new job doing work here for my dad's lab and all that!" Dib remarked with a sheepish grin.

"Yeah, well, we got CALLER ID now, so we're gonna start ignoring you more." The first cop grumbled darkly.

"...er...okayyyy..." Dib said with a gulp. "So, ah, how can I help you officers?"

"Did you happen to hear a disturbance in the last couple of hours?"

"No, but I'm a pretty deep sleeper. Why?"

"Your neighbor next door, Mr. Schnuts-"

Dib snorted, trying to cover his mouth as the cops cleared their throat. "Your NEIGHBOR, Mr. Schnuts, seems to have suffered a home invasion. He's missing, and it may be some time before we find him, if we find him at all. We're talking to anyone living close to him to see if they saw, or heard anything."

"I didn't hear anything, officers. Awfully sorry." Dib remarked, though he had a feeling he knew what might have happened. His late-night visitor had probably been SEEN by his neighbor. But...why? Why had his visitor not stolen anything or...hurt him? He didn't understand.

But he didn't know that his next door neighbor wasn't so far off. He had been tied up and put against the wall, a gag in his mouth, the Huntsman covering his face as he sat in the abandoned, rickety house down the street. A horrific groan echoed through the house as the wind blew through the windows, the living galaxy's expression pained as he slowly lifted his head up, and turned to gaze upon the human.

"So hungry." He whispered out. "...so starving." He murmured. The alien was becoming increasingly desperate. He had a job to complete, he had promised to fulfill his contract with Irken Zim. Had promised to try and end the life of Dibbun Membrane.

But he'd never killed a child before. The idea repulsed him. He cringed as he gripped his skull, claws slightly digging into his black skin.

What was he to do? What **could** he do?

The empty house had no answer. And Mr. Schnuts was far, far too terrified to speak, even if the gag WAS removed. The Huntsman was alone, alone with his thoughts, and shadows...and dust. And a terrible, ugly choice he knew he would have to make.

And soon.


	2. Chapter 2

"We've got a new assistant coach joining the staff today. I'd like to introduce you to someone all of you may be familiar with!"

Dib looked up from the bleachers in the enormous gym, brushing his black hair to the side, the scythe atop his head swishing back a bit as Coach Walrus made her way into the gym, folding her arms over her chest, her big, fat cheeks working up and down as she glared a bit at the students behind her sunglasses. Her thick, oversized "walrus" like front teeth jutted down over her lower lip, with a big hat atop her head that read "Teem" and a gut so hue it looked like she ate three watermelons in a row. "Mr. Thildari, our Guidance Counselor, is gonna be acting as my assistant coach because the SCHOOL! IS TOO CHEAP TO HIRE SOMEONE ELSE." Coach Walrus glowered angrily.

Mr. Thildari gently smiled, his blind eyes gazing in the direction he knew the bleachers and the children were. He waved, his milky eyes glimmering in the light of the gym, his hair white and neatly combed. He wore a large white jacket, a white undershirt, and, of course, white pants and shoes. Looking at him almost made YOU blind if you stared at him outside, as the sun reflected off his body.

"C'mon. Really? What's this guy gonna coach? The Special Olympics?" Torque Smacky snorted, rolling his eyes, the thick-haired, thick-armed jock grunting, scratching a bit at the stubble on his face. The only kid in the grade who was now shaving his back, and the only kid NOBODY wanted to get near after gym. For that same reason.

"I expect you maggots to show him the same respect you all show me!" Coach Walrus snarled, pointing a finger in Torque's face, giving him a glower.

"I appreciate the sentiment, Coach Walrus." Mr. Thildari's soft, dark voice intoned. "But you know as well as I that respect has to be earned. I don't expect this to be easy. Youth knows a pity party when it sees it, unless you prove them wrong. So." He clasped his hands together and grinned. "Might I suggest...ten laps around the gym?"

"Wow, you really ARE just like Coach Walrus." Torque grumbled, he and the other students racing off around the gym, across the slightly cracked gym floor as Mr. Darithil heard them taking off, sighing...turning back to "see" Dib was trying to get his sister off the bleachers.

"You're not gonna join in again?" Dib asked her. "A bit of exercise every day is good for the body. You don't wanna end up as fat as Iggins, right?"

"...pfft." Gaz rolled her eyes, snorting. "Do you always gotta be such a boy scout?"

"Why's that a bad thing?" Mr. Thildari inquired, approaching the bleachers by **exactly** six steps, stopping right in front of the bleacher step closet to him as Gaz raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed by this. It was intriguing that he was able to "see" even without sight. He probably had spent hours in the gym, feeling up the place just to figure out where everything was. "Nothing wrong with dressing out for a little physical education."

"That's what you called it when you were in school? "Dressing out"? How old are you, forty?" Gaz inquired, shaking her head. "Cuz ME? I call it getting tired and sweaty first thing in the morning, feeling gross and sticky as your underwear rides up your ass crack for the rest of the day, maybe catching some mildew-related disease in the locker room showers, and I don't see the f-kin' point. And I sure as hell don't want to follow the lead of Torque "The Smackdown" Smacky." She added with a big, distasteful snort.

"Fair enough." Mr. Thildari remarked, turning to Dib. "Will you be-"

"On it! Coach!" Dib added, bolting around the gym, taking big, sweeping strides as the guidance counselor/assistant coach sighed a bit.

"He's such a nice kid. You could stand to learn a little from him."

"You're lucky I don't hit blind people!" Gaz snapped, glancing around the room, noticing something. Sara and a few of the other girls in the class weren't here. She couldn't see Gretchen, she couldn't see Sara, couldn't see Becky nor Becky's brother, Beck, who was "one of the girls", inconspicuous, usually unnoticed except when he was with his sister and her friends. He was tolerable because he wasn't a big dumb jock, and being bisexual, found himself divided between two worlds. This meant Gaz could talk to him. She found him "interesting".

"Did you see Beck?" She asked the guidance counselor, who gave her a very deliberate look. "Oh, you know what I mean!" Gaz added, throwing her hands up in the air, shaking her purple-haired head back and forth. "Did he come into school this morning? Doesn't he always check in with you every morning? He's always talking about how great you are in therapy. What do you do, exactly? Touch body dolls? Do sensory therapy? Drawing on the walls? Primal scream therapy?"

"Doctor-patient confidentiality." The guidance counselor said calmly. "I can't really discuss what we discuss. But...no, he..." He scratched his head. "He never showed up. It's **unusual**."

Unbeknownst to them, there was a reason they never showed up. Beck, his sister and their friends had been waiting for the bus when they'd heard a noise coming from the abandoned house just next door to their bus stop, and curiosity had dug its claws into them. Carefully pushing open the door as it slowly creaked open, they inched in deeper and deeper through halls with faded wallpaper, past moldy couches and chairs, across cracked and worn floors. There, in the back room, a middle-aged man had a gag covering his mouth, his arms and legs bound, as he squirmed about, eyes bulging wide.

"Holy crap!" Sara gasped out, the little girl's eyes wide. Her hands flew to her mouth, her nun attire fluttering as she raced forward, getting down on her dark blue dress, trying to untie his feet. "Help me get him untied!"

"Y-You're sure about this?" Beck asked, the other kids nervously hanging back. "I mean, what if the guy who did this comes back?" He inquired, his slightly mascara-toned eyes glancing around the ugly living room, a little ponytail hanging over his slender shoulders as he chewed his studded lip. "...okay." He finally decided, racing over to the man as well, his sister and her friend Gretchen trying to untie him as well. Beck removed the gag, the man coughing and spluttering. "What happened?"

"This monster kidnapped me from my house!" Mr. Schnuts cried out. "He was big and tall and had horns and...and..." He trailed off, his eyes slowly growing wider and wider, mouth agape, staring over Beck's head.

"...don't tell me. The guy who did this came back?" Beck quietly asked, Sara "eeping" as she and the other girls slooooooowly turned around, seeing a large, starry-bodied being standing tall above them all, frowning a bit.

"Oh are we ever in the deepest of doggy dos." She squeaked out, his clawed hand descending down upon them...

Soon, all of them were tied up as well, forced onto the couch as the starry-bodied being lifted up the large bag he'd brought, cringing a bit as he opened up the contents within, various chemicals being dumped into a large, gigantic pot he'd dragged across the floor and from the kitchen. "Let's see. 35 liters of water, 25 kilograms of carbon, 4 liters of ammonia, 1. 5 kilograms of lime, 800 grams of phosphorous, 250 grams of salt, 100 grams of saltpeter, 80 grams of sulfur, 7.5 grams of flourine..."

Sara was the only one who hadn't been gagged yet. He appeared to be desperate, his belly having loudly, horribly grumbling out just as he'd tried to put a gag in her mouth, and she figured he wanted to get something in his gut before he finished the job. "Wh-what're you doing?"

"The contents of a single human adult, their chemical composition. From your muscles to your fat to your blood and bone, all that lies within this pot is what constitutes a human if you put it down to just their base elements." The alien being told her in his ethereal, soft voice. "I have to eat something, and fast. I've not eaten in almost a month." He murmured, chewing on his lip slightly, Sara noticing that, despite his rather well-built body, his stomach was rather skinny. He swirled the contents of the pot around with a manifested, sparkling light blue spoon that appeared to be made of some kind of odd energy, and then lifted the pot up, slurping down the soupy mix he'd made...

Or so he tried. He coughed and spluttered and fell to his knees, the pot flopping over to the side as he gripped his throat with his clawed hands, eyes bugging out wide, spitting out some of the mixture. " **HRAAALLLGGHH!** No...no good. I cannot keep it down..." He murmured. "It's just not enough." The Huntsman felt sick, not merely from what he'd just vomited up, but from the knowledge of what he had to do. He was still so young himself, and had hoped that, perhaps, the mere chemical composition of a sentient being would be enough to sate him.

But no.

... _no_.

He looked mournfully at the children and the man he'd tied up. He hesitated, slowly rising up, approaching the man, lifting Mr. Schnuts up, bringing him into the next room. "Don't look, children." He spoke up, turning back to briefly look at them. "I'm sorry, but I'm...I'm so hungry. So starving. The Huntsman needs proper sustenance that only a living, sentient being can provide..."

Sara's eyes went wide. "Y-You can't just eat him!" She realized aloud. "That's...that's horrible!"

"Yes." The alien being quietly intoned, looking briefly back at her, then at the squirming, uselessly flailing man in his grip, his fanged maw opening wide. "...yes it is."

Sara and the others tried to look away. They failed.

The Huntsman might have put a gag in most of their mouths...but they sure didn't have their EARS covered. Sara let out a horrific cry of terror, her eyes going wide, tears brimming in the blue pupils as she quivered and shook, trying to ignore the rapidly-vanishing form of the middle aged man before her as the Huntsman fed.

Mercifully, after about five minutes, it was done, and he gently stroked over Sara's head, speaking comfortingly to her. "Shhhh. Shhhhhhh. Its alright. Its alright. Understand, I am sorry for this. Forgive me for what I have to do. This is only temporary." He said with a sad sigh.

He didn't want to do this, but...he was still so hungry. And he still had a job to do. As disgusted as he was with the idea...he had sworn to put an end to Dibbun Membrane's life. And he thought he had an idea on how to do that.

"What's your name?" He asked.

"What?" Sara squeaked out, looking up into the Huntsman's face, gentle concern on his features.

"What is your name?"

"...S-Sara Sienna." She said, taking in a deep, gulping breath. "M-My family's descended from S-Saint Catherine of S-Sienna. W-We're all emp-employed by the ch-church."

"Listen, little one." He told Sara softly. "I am going to answer your prayers, and let you go. But you are going to find your classmate, Dib. You are going to tell him an alien took your friends, and has put them here in this house, and that you're sure he's going to cook and eat them." The Huntsman went on, gently continuing to stroke her, now caressing her cheek. "You're going to bring him here, and in return, I'll let your friends go. Do you understand?"

She nodded feverishly, pure terror coursing through her veins.

"You forgive me for what I have to do...don't you?" He asked of her, as she also nodded again, thinking it very unwise to object to a ten-foot-tall behemoth who could snap her neck like a toothpick. "Good girl. Go on." He said, easily cutting free her bonds, letting her bolt from the room like she was a bat out of Hell as he quietly sighed, gazing out in the direction she'd gone, before turning to Beck, Becky and Gretchen, seeing Gretchen's face was blazing with a new emotion. Blazing...with anger. The braces-wearing, slightly ratty-haired girl was glaring at him with amazing ferocity, and he gently took out the gag from her mouth, looking intrigued by her fierce gaze.

 **"Dib's gonna kick your fat alien ass!"** She snapped angrily. "If he can beat ZIM on a daily basis, he can sure as heck beat you!"

"Zim is an idiot." The Huntsman remarked with a bit of a sigh. "My dear, your friend Dib has been contending with a very poor rival. He doesn't stand a chance. I don't say that to be cruel. I say it because I don't enjoy giving people false hope."

He put the gag back in her mouth, giving her a pat on the head. "Now get comfy. I'll make you all up a nice little soup-"

He then looked down at the floor, and cringed, remembering what he'd just thrown up. "...tell you what. Some nice sandwiches. Peanut butter and jelly alright?"

The kids all sighed, and nodded as one, and he smiled, heading into the kitchen as Gretchen sighed a bit. This Huntsman might have been evil, but at least he wasn't inconsiderate.

...

...

...

...Dib was at school, in the lunchroom and waving around a large fork with a speared bit of cafeteria meat on it, Gaz sitting next to him as Zim sat across from him, growling darkly, tapping away on a little Eyepad he had. Zim's "Eyepad" required him to regularly inject it into his eye as a power source.

Dib didn't have the heart to tell the green-skinned alien freak that Ipads weren't supposed to work that way. Nor the desire to point out how odd this was to the rest of the class. Because it meant Zim would stop stabbing a sharp needle into his eye over and over every time he wanted to boot up his tablet computer. So he smirked over at Zim, who glared back at him, his black wig messy and some flies circling around his spot at the table.

"You know, the summer makes you forget so much. You forget how much you hate reading cuz you have to read a hundred pages a night, you forget to get up early so you don't miss the bus...you forget..." He bit into the cafeteria meat...then GAGGED, sticking his tongue out, groaning. "UGH! The importance of bringing a bag lunch!" He muttered, putting the fork down, then looking over at Zim, who was wincing a bit. The eye he'd stuck the needle into was quivering and he was crying, and it brought a grin to Dib's face.

"Why are you staring at me, Dib-Stink!?"

"I dunno. I just can't stop smiling!" He laughed. "You make me feel all sunny inside. How was your summer vacation? Enjoying your first week back?"

"Eat spit, Dib Stink." Zim snarled, tapping rapidly away at his tablet computer and glowering. "Zim is in no mood for you and your big head!"

Dib gripped the side of his cafeteria tray a little more tightly. He took in a deep breath, then "harrumphed". "You're the one who's got the "stink", Zim. You reek all the way over here!"

Indeed, NOBODY was sitting within two tables of Zim. Everyone had inched as far away from him as they could, acting as though the green-skinned "boy" was radioactive. He was positively disgusting, smelling like thrown out socks and garbage and rotting meat, making everyone think of the time he'd covered himself in meat...that had rotted in the noonday sun. His body had been horribly blistered and he'd run all the way home, screaming.

Dib, of course, had uploaded all of that to Pooptube. It was the one video he had that actually got good Thumbs Up ratings.

"Zim has been VERY BUSY!" Zim proclaimed, pointing upward dramatically. "No time to take BATHS! Working on top secret projects to take over human bodies!"

"Then I guess it ain't top secret anymore." Dib remarked, rolling his eyes, shaking his head back and forth. "I'll stop it, Zim. Like I **always** -"

"DIB!"

A voice rang out through the cafeteria, Sara pouring into the cafeteria, grabbing his jacketed arm, her eyes wide with fear, her lip quivering. "B-Becky and-and Beck and Gretchen! Th-they got kidnapped! He wants YOU!" She said, tugging him away into the hallway leading into the cafeteria, closing the door behind them, shaking him about. "He'll probably eat them!"

"What're you talking about?" Dib asked, sounding confused, blinking a bit.

 _ **"An alien, Dib!"**_

Those two words made his blood quiver and shake. His eyes went wide, mouth slightly opening wide.

"He had this big black body, and little stars running all through it, like he was the stars in the night sky and-and he had this horned head and big claws and-and...and he ate this other guy right in front of us! He-he'll probably eat everyone else if you don't come!" Sara begged tearfully, shaking her head back and forth, her nun's attire slightly torn and sweat-stained, she'd clearly run all the way from wherever she'd been to the school without stopping. "He's like ten feet tall and he called himself the "Huntsman" and-and..."

"Hey, hey!" Dib gently held Sara's hands, looking deep into her eyes. "I need you to take long, deep breaths." He insisted, his amber/golden eyes glittering behind his glasses. "And tell me. **Where** did he bring them to?"

"The-the old abandoned home of Ms. Sartoris, the-the crazy old cat lady." Sara whispered out.

Dib bit his lip, then nodded. "Okay. I'll go get them. But I've got to stop by my house first before I go. It's clearly gonna be a trap. He's expecting me." Dib reasoned, adjusting his glasses and heading down the hall, jacket billowing slightly as he raced out of the school. Years of dealing with Zim had hardened him, made him keener, cleverer. He'd gotten better at fighting aliens. He could handle this. He could handle this.

TEN MINUTES LATER...

 _"I CAN'T HANDLE THIS!"_

Dib bolted at top speed down the hall, barreling as fast as he could away from the giant horned being who's clawed hands BARELY missed him. He poured down the hall, past peeling wallpaper, panting and heaving, chest quickly rising and falling as the Huntsman raced forth, suddenly slamming his fist into the floor.

SHAKKA-KROOOM! A crack ran through the floor, a shockwave ripping through it and knocking Dib off his balance. He flopped about into the kitchen, colliding with the table as it crashed down around him. He coughed and spluttered, groaning before he felt claws gripping deep into his shoulders, a large, immense form pinning him below itself. Blue eyes stared deep into golden/amber, the Huntsman's expression somber and sad.

"Please. Forgive me for this, little one. Please." The Huntsman intoned. "I have to feed upon sentient life. It's the only way."

"Can I just say one thing?" Dib asked, one hand going deep into his right hand pocket.

The Huntsman blinked a bit. "What?"

"Go to sleep!" Dib cried out, his hand shooting up, alien sleep cuffs slamming forth, around the wrists of the alien being as it stared in surprise, blinking in amazement as it frowned.

"Oh come now, little one. You think this dollar store nonsense will-"

And then he flopped clear down onto Dib, who let out a 'GAAAK', the giant frame almost squishing him into the kitchen. Dib squirmed as best he could from underneath the giant starry-bodied beast, panting a bit as he pushed the alien being off him, and he raced back into the living room, undoing the gags and bonds of Beck and Becky and Gretchen. "You guys gotta run! Now!" He insisted. "Get home, now!"

Beck and Becky nervously looked at each other, Gretchen looking at Dib. "Dib, we can't just leave you with-AAA! He's waking up!" She shrieked out, pointing over his shoulder, the Huntsman moaning, turning onto his back, his eyes fluttering.

"RUN!" Dib screamed out, reaching into his pockets again, pulling out his taser and a grenade, tossing it up and down, then launching it through the air. It landed in the kitchen, flopping onto the faded floor tiles as the Huntsman rose up, frowning, gazing around the room as smoke filled the air. The Huntsman rose up, snapping the cuffs with a loud KRACCHA-THRAK like bone splitting apart, and he clenched his fists around a spear that manifested in midair, made of gleaming, light blue energy as the smoke grenade's contents whizzed and hissed and swirled around him.

"Human child, your tricks won't save you. You think I am not capable of smelling where you are? I've got your scent-"

BRRRZZT! He gasped, Dib's taser stabbing into the crook of his back. Hissing in annoyance, he twirled around, but Dib was gone, vanished into the smoke again. He tried to swipe around, but then **Another** strike! BRRRZZZT! Dib had gotten on his belly and jabbed the taser squarely into his foot, forcing him to leap back.

The smoke kept filling up the kitchen, rising high and thick, grey and wet and sticky as the Huntsman's noseless face somehow still sniffed at the air, then he turned around, and threw the spear with a harsh, thick thrust of his arm. Dib let out a cry, the spear embedding into his jacket shoulder, pinning him to the hallway wall as the Huntsman advanced, clawed hand held up.

"You are clever, child. And you have skills. I'm sorry we couldn't have met under better circumstances." He said, reaching for Dib's throat.

Dib reached into his pocket, and tossed ANOTHER grenade as it shot right into the Huntsman's open mouth. He gasped, reeling back, spluttering and cringing, clutching at his gullet as the spear dissolved away, and Dib bolted out of the house, racing down the street as the Huntsman finally vomited out the smoke grenade from his mouth. "GLAUUUGGHHKK!" He groaned out, his mighty chest rising and falling, his body shaking as he turned around, glancing about.

So. The child had run away. No matter. He had the boy's scent. Though Dib was skilled, that was clearly true, willing to resort to dirty, dark tricks to win...it was, in a way, admirable. He'd not fought a child so clearly capable of self-defense. He was impressive for a human.

He'd have to remember to be more careful next time.

...

...

...

... _"Please...please...let me go!"_

 _"So, um...wh-what do these things do anyway?"_

 _The man stared in shock, eyes wide with terror, strapped down to a large table in a dark laboratory as a fat, squat insectoid alien looked down at a large capsule with ugly, foul-looking needles sticking out of the bottom, and what appeared to be a squidlike creature with unnaturally large fangs in the liquid-filled capsule at the top. It swished about in the foul, orangish liquid, yellow eyes bulging as the man quivered in fear, the short, fat alien looking a bit sympathetically at the terrifed human before turning to its friend._

 _"I mean, we know what they did to the chickens, Zim. Will it even work on humans?"_

 _"Of course! Chicken brains, human brains, what's the difference!?" Zim said with a snort, the small alien grinning as he lifted up the capsule, approaching the man, getting to the top of the table...and aiming it squarely at the man's skull. "Now this shall only hurt for a moment!"_

 _He had lied._

Edward Jones moaned, clutching at his head, moaning, the tube's contents swishing about. His body was practically skin and bones, his frame whimpering, the mind control capsule cephalapod swirling over his skull. "Ohhhh. S-Starving...g-gotta get something to eat..." He whimpered pitifully, making his way down the long, lonely street, night having long since fallen, his shadow being cast across the dark roads as he flopped into a nearby alley and moaned, piteously landing against the side of an alley.

"Ahh. Looks like you and I have both made mistakes." A soft, etheral voice intoned as the man whimpered in terror, seeing a pair of blue eyes gazing back. The Huntsman rose out of the darkness, standing tall, looking at the man's head. "You have the stink of ZIM over you. Looks like one of his experiments has gone rather badly wrong. How crude." He remarked, shaking his horned head.

"P-Please, it-it hurts..." Edward Jones begged tearfully, the alien before him sighing, Edward Jones's mouth spreading open wide, impossibly wide, horrific, vile fangs manifesting, his mouth becoming circular, his fingers turning into bony claws as a hunch began to form in his spine. "It-it wants me to feed!"

"Well, I can understand that. Don't worry. I won't let you suffer."

The man dove at him, screaming, trying to claw at the Huntsman, who ducked to avoid his strike. Edward swiped again, whimpering all the while, the alien being avoiding his clawed slashes, swerving to the side before slamming the man into the alleyway, jaws opening wide, and engulfing his head in a loud, powerful GLOMP.

He held the man steady, and got to work on the necessary cruelty, beginning to swallow the man down, headfirst, working his jaws over the struggling, mutated human's frame. His blue tongue tasted over human flesh, throat undulating, the man sinking into deep, deep warmth as his form fell down, down into an endless abyss, a faint bit of light opening up at the bottom, an odd, faintly sparkling, bluish/white substance that bathed over him.

He could feel it sinking into his very being as he, in turn, sank into the Huntsman. He realized he was within the chemical composition of many different elements and he...in turn...was soon to add to it. His sacrifice would help to seed worlds with life and power. He was faintly aware of his body dissolving away, yet...there wasn't any pain. There was just a faint, soft tingling that bathed over him as he felt his mind, body and soul joining with this living galaxy.

The Huntsman quietly sighed, resting a clawed hand on his gut as it softly stirred, and then became smooth. He shook his head back and forth, cringing. He hadn't wanted to do that. He only wanted to defeat Dib, he didn't **wish** to involve innocents, but...the situation was getting out of control.

He'd find Dib tomorrow. He wasn't going to kill the child while he slept. He had to at least try to maintain his honor.

No matter how _little_ of it he felt remained after all he'd done in the past few days.


	3. Chapter 3

"Don't take this the wrong way, but...you look quite dreadful."

"Yes, Lard Nar, I know."

He steepled his clawed hands, smiling softly. "But you should see the other guy."

"You can't SEE anything."

"It's a figure of speech."

The blind Irken's balled antannae bounced slightly atop his head, his milky white eyes "looking" up at the vid screen that floated in front of him as he sat atop a floating, silver, curvy chair. A soft blue light emanated from a gem in the bottom middle of the chair, a hover crystal that kept the chair afloat as the alien being smiled warmly at the horned and grey-skinned, goggles-wearing alien before him. Lard Nar, Head of the Resisty, was normally not tolerant of Irkens. After all, their race had betrayed his. But...there were a few exceptions, and the psychic Irken interrogator who had managed to sneak his "baby sister" off of Vort, away with her children, was one of them.

"At any rate, I've a lot of work to do. It's early in the morning and I'm already on my third cup of coffee trying to look over this reports that Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum sent me." Darth intoned, flicking his hand as a cup of coffee floated towards him, his other hand grasping a small, snazzy metal clipboard that had special writing upon it. "Braille" esque writing, designed to help him "see" the report, to "read" it. "Red and Purple are running me ragged. I have to interrogate three prisoners today AND I'll be doing a group counseling session with our "Little Friends"."

"Aren't you worried the Empire will find out you've been having group therapy with other "defectives"?" Lard Nar asked. "They'd shoot you out an airlock. For starters." The Vortian confessed as he sighed and leaned back in his OWN enormous chair. It was considerably impressive in size and bulk, but it made Lard Nar look severely...incompetently overcompensating.

Hey, he was no leader. The Resisty snatched him from an alleyway with a butterfly net. When the second smartest member of your group was a floating alien ice cream cone with a smiley face, you had to make do with what you had.

"The Brains are still currently reeling from Zim's little escapade with them after his trial, and they were the only authority in the Capital. Red and Purple certainly aren't going to ever stop in!" Darth laughed in his faintly dark voice, a mixture of soothing and sinister. "They care more about donuts than they do proper inspections. Besides, we change meeting places every week."

"Can I ask you something personal?"

"About my eyes?"

"...you can't POSSIBLY have read my mind. We're on vid-chat!" Lard Nar said, mouth agape.

"I don't need my telepathy to tell you were going to ask about that. Anytime someone asks me that question, 9 times out of 10 it is about my eyes. Fire away." Darth sighed.

"Why don't you use those...y'know...prosthetics? Get new eye implants to replace the ones you have? Thought they'd make things easier for you."

Darth's tone became quiet, contemplative, somber. "Perhaps. But..." He tapped one of his white eyes, and it gave a distinctly hollow "KLOK KLOK" sound that rang through the dark room who's only luminescence was the floating vid-screen. "We have a history, these eyes. Besides, I've tried other implants. They're uncomfortable. They pinch. Besides, I've lived my entire life not judging based on appearances but on how people are INSIDE. Not outside. You can be fooled by a smile..."

He grinned. "But the mind is an open book."

"The mind, yeah, but...well..." Lard Nar seemed to hesitate. "The mind ain't the soul."

"I know, I know. I understand your point." Darth intoned. "But do you...SEE...mine?"

"Yeah, I get it." Lard Nar chuckled. "Anything else you wanted to talk about?"

"I've been keeping an eye on Zim's little escapades when I can. I read his mind in the cafeteria. He appears to be infecting humans with some kind of technology to drastically alter their physical appearance and abilities, turning them into mutated slaves. He's been using big, ugly SOUP JARS to hold the mechanical parasites he crafts for his unfortunates. But he's working his way towards jars that are smaller and smaller. Soon they'll be barely visible at all to human eyes, and capable of blending in among a crowd..."

Darth's eyes narrowed darkly. "Where they can do untold damage. Imagine scores of sleeper agents, ready to turn into mechanical monsters ten feet tall with three feet long razor claw fingers at a moment's notice."

"With spiked tails?"

"Yes, Zim would loooove spiked tails." Darth admitted with a sigh.

"And tentacles. He likes his creations having tentacles too. Spiked tentacles with electro-ends." Lard Nar added with a groan. "I remember him talking about that all the time back when he was working alongside me in the lab above Vort. He wouldn't STOP talking about things like that. They'd serve no practical purpose, they just "looked cool"! God in Heaven, he was dumb."

"Was, nothing, still is." Darth sighed. "I'll try and get Zim alone in a therapy session. See if I can purge this idea from his head." He added, tapping the side of his skull. "And try to capture any of the victims he's already done this awful procedure upon..."

With that, Darth bid Lard Nar goodbye, and hopped out of the chair, heading across the floor, and down a long, long hallway, getting into an elevator. He had more than one group therapy session today. In fact, the first one was at the school...at his "job". And he'd get to see dear Dib.

"I know these early morning meetings can be grueling. But I'd like to thank you all the same for coming to our Wednesday Morning Session. If we can take our seats, we can begin. We all have classes, jobs, responsibilities, but its still nice that we can take the time to be here for ourselves...and for each other."

"Yeah, that's true." said a green-eyed Irken, a communications officer who steepled his black-gloved hands, his face soft and warm. "I'll get us started, is that okay?"

"Of course, Senior." Darithil said, the psychic "Consular" gesturing at the head communications officer of the Massive, who was currently on a three day leave from the Massive. Time he could spend with his wife and children.

Time spent with the sister of Lard Nar. A secret he absolutely couldn't let the Empire know about.

"My name is Senior. I'm a defective." The green-eyed Irken said, his spiky antannae flopping about as he nodded at everyone. "It's been a while since I came to a meeting like this. I've had quite a lot going on as head communications officer of the Massive. But I guess too busy with work means too busy to see my wife and children, and expose them to the Tallests. Red and Pur would never get over me having a Vortian family. Doesn't matter if I'm an old childhood chum of theirs. Doesn't matter if we went through training together alongside Spork and Miyuki."

He sighed, leaning back, closing his eyes as a light fixture hums overhead. "And worst of all is..."

 _"I'm obsessive compulsive." Dib says. "I really, really focus too hard on things I shouldn't." He rubs over his black hair, panting a bit. "UGH. It's sometimes-I-I mean...its like bees in my head. And I feel like nobody could get what's wrong with me. I've felt like that for years!"_

 _Darth is quiet. He knows the others in the group are thinking, making their own judgments. But they shan't say anything because they've their own demons. Himself included. Because he's not "normal" either. He's a wolf in sheep's clothing. He's a monster. He doesn't belong among normal people._

 _They know he spends a lot of time locked in his room. They hear him talking to himself. Saying mantras and strange prayers. They think he should just shoot up if he wants to go see God so much. And sometimes they're sure he DOES, they don't buy that he's really just injecting "medicine" every week at noon on Thursday..._

 _They don't understand. They don't get that it's all to keep his worst thoughts at bay._

 _That ugly, hateful thing. The thing that's whispering to him..._

"It's always whispering to me." Senior said softly. "That awful bit of Irken cruelty, that thing inside that tells me not to feel sorry for those "weaker" than me. To not show compassion. To not show sympathy. That ugly thing in me that I have to bonk over the head, stuff back down under the rock it crawled out of." He clutched at his face, shivering in his chair. "I don't hear it that often. But when I do..."

 _The beast is hungry and violent. Even now, Darth hears it hissing at him as he stares at Dib, who continues to talk...now about his sister and her cruelty towards him. Faces are nodding. He's getting sympathy. They can understand that pain, for they've suffered from her hands before. But Darth can barely hear it._

 _That ugly thing is whispering to him. Even stuffed hard into the corner of his mind, the "Irken" in him is reminding Darithil of Irk that he is never alone. Still, it helps that he's a part of this mass. One of the faces in a crowd. It feels almost like a talisman, a ward against the nasty little bug inside him that wants him to hurt these filthy huuuuuumans._

 _He can't listen to it. He CAN'T. But he can't turn it out either._

 _"That was..."_

"Good of you to share. We're..."

 _"All really happy to have you..."  
_  
"With us. Do we have any other..."

 _"New guests..."_

"Here today?"

...

...

...

...the night had fallen once again, and aggravating yipping and barking that echoed through the air. Barking that made Dib uneasy as he tossed and turned in his bed. UGH. He wished that his next door neighbor didn't have so many awful chihuahuas! He HATED those little things. One of the few things he shared in common with Zim, though he'd eve know t.

"ROOF! ROOF-ROOF-ROOF-ROOF!"

Groaning, he turned over onto his stomach, shoving his pillow over his head and moaning. "Shut uuuuuup, doggy!" He groaned. "Why is GAZ not doing anything about that dumb dog? I thought she'd have gone over to threaten the owner or something." He grunted, tossing and turning in his "I Really Wanna Believe" boxers.

"ROOF! WOOF-WOOF-WOOF-WOOF!"

Truth was, Gaz knew Dib's bedroom was closer to the neighbor with the dogs, so she didn't care. Especially because she had some nice, calming music playing on her headphones to lull her into a sweet sleep, as lovely visions danced in her head.

"Let's talk of family values while we sit and watch the slaughter

Hypothetical abortions on imaginary daughters!

The white folks think they're at the top; ask any proud white male!

A million years of evolution, WE GET DANNY QUAYLE!"

Did I say 'Lovely'? I meant stuff that would give Federico Fellini nightmares.

"ROOF! WOOF-ROOF-WOOF-ROOF!"

"Ughhhhhh!" Dib grunted, finally getting up, slipping into his pants and his shirt, getting his jacket on as he headed down the stairs, and out the door. The moon bathed soft light upon the street as he strolled towards his neighbor's house, holding his smartphone aloft as the flashlight function glinted on, and he made for the front door, the barking continuing on and on and ON AND ON! "Stupid dogs!" He grunted.

A sound of aggravated grunting. A faintly audible moan. Then...

"ROOOOF! WOO-YIPE! _YIPEYIPEYIPE_ -"

Now Dib stiffened. The cries had died away and...and he smelled blood. That ugly, awful, salty-iron smell was distinct. Impossible to ignore.

He raced up to the front door, reaching into his pocket, getting out his taser. He pushed the door open.

And immediately wished he hadn't.

The neighbor was dead. The dogs were dead. And...someone was in the middle of eating them. Flesh stretched and steely, with mechanical parts intertwining among ribs and muscle, and...something was sticking out of the back of his head. The man had a kind of sickly jar atop his skull, the size of a jam jar, and his eyes were pinpricks against an unnaturally shade that danced over his face. His teeth had become fangs, his fingers razor sharp, mechanical claws, and he gazed up at Dib, mouth slightly agape...dripping the remnants of his previous meals down from his jaws.

"Can't...help myself. So hungry. MUST. FEED." He whispered out.

Dib bolted backwards, out into the street. He avoided the thing's swiping claws as it swung at him, trying to claw him. He rolled out of the way, across the gravel drive and onto the grass of the neighbor's front lawn, tossing a garden gnome through the air. It bounced off the mutated man's face, breaking into chunks.

The man clutched at his skull and screamed in pain as Dib raised the taser and a powerful bolt of electrical stunning energy sailed through the air. It slammed into the man's chest and he spazzed out, screeching, finally flopping backwards onto the driveway as Dib held the taser up, chest rising and falling, his eyes bulging behind his glasses.

He approached the man who twitched and moaned, still lying on his back in the driveway, blood caking his finger/claws and jaws, his hair a floppy, dark brown mess, his skin a lovely shade of caramel as he whimpered pitifully and looked at Dib.

"It...huuuurts…" He managed to get out. "Wants me...to eat."

"Look. Just stay down. PLEASE." Dib begged quietly, pointing the taser at the man. "I want to help you. But you need to try and tell me what you can."

"Nobody can help me. N-Not the...the r-right way. I want y-your help, but th-the thing he...the thing he stuck into me? NEVER." The mutated man whispered. "The green man said it'd make me so much stronger and b-better. T-Told me to s-shut up when I screamed for h-help…"

Dib felt a sick, furious, angry howl bellowing up from his soul. This time Zim had gone too...damn...far. He was going to pay. And he was going to pay HARD. But...what to do with this guy? Could he cure him? Get that parasitic thing out of his head? Out from his body entirely?

"It might end up hurting him if I try, but...what else can I do?" Dib wondered quietly to himself...not realizing another form had arrived there as well. "I mean…" He looked down at the man, who was still faintly twitching and convulsing with electrical stimuli. "If I was like that, maybe I'd want-"

"A mercy killing?" A dark, ethereal voice intoned as Dib whipped around...too late. He was now being held up in the air by a clawed hand, pale blue eyes gazing into his own amber/gold, Dib feeling the blood draining from his face. The claws slightly dug into his neck as the Huntsman stared deeply into his features. "That's what you're thinking, correct? Putting the human out of his misery? Don't worry. I shan't let him suffer. I've already taken care of one of Zim's monstrous "pet projects", and I shall handle this one after I am finished with you."

Stall him. He HAD to stall this thing.

"Why do you want to kill me anyway?" Dib asked, trying to sound defensive, annoyed. "What'd I ever do to you? I've never MET any...whatever you are!"

"Cosmo Sapien." The Huntsman intoned. "I'm a living galaxy, child. And to survive, I require sentient life to stave off the entropy within my body. To ensure the survival of the many, I must be willing to be cruel, and to take lives." It informed Dib softly, almost sadly. "I don't like killing. I've never killed a child before." He admitted, and his tone seemed to waver. "But I had a deal with Zim. He tells me where my sister is, and I put an end to you. A favor for a favor. If it makes you feel any better, this isn't personal at all. Just hold still."

Dib shuddered in fear. He felt the Huntsman's claws tighten a bit. Not enough to draw blood, but to get a good, firmer grip.

"Zim shall want to see your body. I would simply absorb you as I did the other, the process would be painless. But I have to ensure he knows of your demise. I'll try and snap your neck. I've done this to animals before, it won't hurt for more than a moment…" The alien hunter confessed, sounding nervous. Almost...scared. Dib was struck at how...YOUNG he seemed, up close. He had a sinking feeling that not only had the Huntsman never killed a child before, he had not really ever killed many people to begin with. Just his luck: he was getting a "newbie" assassin.

He would have almost preferred a more monstrous murderer. At least then he wouldn't feel this conflicting mixture of pity and horror towards his soon-to-be-killer-

 **"RAAAAAAAAGHHHH!"**

Then salvation from an unlikely source! The mutated man was no longer tased. He leapt up from the driveway, spiky clawed fingers shooting forward at them. The Huntsman frowned, whipping around, holding his other hand up as a blue spear of energy manifested. "Change of plans."

SCHLOCCKKA-GHRRRGGHHSSKK! The spear slammed hard into the man's chest, horrific oil, blood, machinery all splattering out, cascading down onto the ground as the man let out a screeching, inhuman cry, flopping back as the Huntsman tossed Dib away, onto the grass and advanced, pinning the man down, gripping his head with both hands.

"NO!" Dib screamed out, the Huntsman turning back to look at him, and Dib saw his eyes glow. The black-haired youth barely leapt away in time, letting out a "EEP" as he dove away, a burning blast of pale blue laser energy singing the spot right in front of him, a firm warning from the Huntsman.

"Trying to rescue this broken wing is admirable, but futile, little dibbun. You cannot save everyone. I'm doing this man a kindness, not a cruelty." The alien hunter said, turning back to the man in his grip.

 _KRRRAAAK!_

A sickening, awful, horrifying sound that Dib would never forget. It rang through the air, in the stillness of the quiet neighborhood, and Dib's eyes went wide as saucers behind his glasses as he saw the poor, mutated man's head crushed in an instant. One minute, it was there, and the next...it, like his life, was just...gone. And nothing but blood and faint yellow stuff was dribbling down from the Huntsman's clawed hands as he sighed, rising up. "Now...best get on with this..." He murmured, turning back to Dib…

Who had leapt on him with the speed and ferocity of a man POSSESSED. He was screaming, screeching, tears brimming in his eyes, hot and bitter as he howled at the alien hunter like a banshee, and PUNCHED AND PUNCHED AND PUNCHED across the alien hunter's face, feeling a sickening yet righteous satisfaction as he felt teeth crunch and the jaw slightly break. **"YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO** ** _KILL_** **HIM!"** Dib screamed out.

KRRNNNNCCKK, KRRNNNNCCKK, KRRNNNNCCKK-

And then Dib felt the clawed hand that's stuck itself onto his face. The sound of glasses being broken, blood a-trickling down the side of his skull as blackish/blue claws tightened their grip, and the Huntsman stared into Dib's eyes, his face somber and sad...yet furious, as if personally insulted.

"Yes. I. Did. And you would have had to do the same thing. I had to learn the hard way that necessary cruelties exist in life. That you don't always get to save everyone. Not even the people you most love. That sometimes you can't save ANYONE. That sometimes...people have to die."

A tightened grip. Dib could barely hear anything. His breathing is getting shallow, the Huntsman's grip is tightening.

"I didn't want to resort to THIS level of cruelty. I wanted to give you a more peaceful end. But you've forced my hand." The Huntsman murmured. "You have made me ANGRY. I'm not feeling quite as merciful!-"

 _FNNK!_

"HRRAGGGHH!" The Huntsman dropped Dib, howling as he reeled back, clutching his face, panting and heaving as his chest rose and fell, a needle having jammed into his cheek. "What did...GAHH! What...what did...you j-just…" He moaned out, falling to his knees, Dib moaning as he clutched at his head, the alien hunter looking up...seeing what was approaching. "ANOTHER one?" He whispered. "So...there's more of you."

"You will not harm this child anymore." A soft, dark voice demanded angrily, and Dib felt arms, exceptionally soft...exceptionally warm...lifting him high.

"I am not done...yet." The Huntsman intoned. "Despite what you just in-injected me with…" He muttered, trying to rise up. "Ugh...I'll...I'll overc-come this…"

"Maybe, but not soon enough!"

Wind. Wind was barreling into Dib's face, whomever had him was running, racing as fast as they could, stumbling over their white robes, finally slamming through a door, racing down, down into a dark, deep basement...and Dib faintly looked up at long last, his vision swimming, feeling soft hands holding his cheeks.

"I'm going to tend to your wounds. Just take deep, deep breaths. In through your nose, out through your mouth."

"Mr...Thildari…" Dib murmured, as Darithil the Irken's eyes widened, turning into white, pasty saucers.

"How-?"

"I r-recognize...y-your...your voice…" Dib laughed quietly, as he saw the swimmy, blurry...yet distinctly white and GREEN figure. "Th-that ain't no...skin condition you g-got...no s-skin c-condition gives you...three...clawed f-fingers and...g-green skin…"

"...you're right." The Irken sighed quietly, hanging his head. "My true name is Darithil. My friends call me Darth. I'm a consular, a psychic interrogator for the Irken Empire. Earth's a good hiding spot for someone like me who wants to meet with other "defectives" who don't fit into the proper Irken mold. We live with you, work with you, and your race doesn't even know it. I took this job to get a good eye on Zim and...well, on you. We heard stories about you from calls Zim made to the head flagship. Also, my friend Senior once patched you through to the Tallest. Said they...made you do a dance in exchange for talking about why they cut their thumbs off?"

Dib laughed a bit. "I remember that. Did the electric slide for six minutes straight…"

"If it makes you feel any better, I've seen them on the dance floor too. I can best describe it as...waddling." Darth chuckled. "No grown man looks good dancing in a gown."

"Says the man in Gandalf the White robes." Dib laughed with a snort before the diziness overwhelmed him.

"HEY. I could leave you back outside for that tall, dark stranger." Darth said, wagging a finger in the air. "Now relax. I'm going to give you one of my spare muscle relaxants. A very small dose, MUCH smaller than the one I stuck that other man with. It'll help ease your breathing and your muscles so I can work on your injuries…"

A tiny prick…

And Dib drifted off into peaceful slumber, Darth wiping his brow. He was just glad he hadn't MISSED with that launched needle. Good thing the alien hunter was talking so damn loudly. Now...just had to make a few precise stitches…

But unfortunately, Darth had let something slide that day. He'd been on his way to Zim's house, hoping to sneak in, for the Irken hadn't come into school that day. He had been minutes from entering the house and putting a stop to Zim's awful experiments when the horrific cry of Dib had filled the air, and he'd raced off to help the young human.

So now Zim was alone...untouched. Free to do what he wanted…

And cackling sadistically, Zim slapped four much smaller, sickly, greenish little capsule/jars onto four more unfortunates, all homeless vagabonds he's snatched off the streets, led into his home on the promise of a good meal and a warm bed…

They would be the pinnacle of his creations. He couldn't wait to test them out tomorrow. At the school.

"Now…" Zim said with a big grin, holding up a large black remote with a shiny red button and clicking it...

As a children's storybook popped up from a pedestal before him and he held it in front of the four men with capsule/tubes sticking out of their skulls, who stared stupidly with faintly glowing eyes, tilting their heads at the crude, watercolor paintings that GIR had drawn in the storybook. Crude paintings of Dib's face, looking stupid, tongue sticking out of his mouth and with eyes looking off in different directions.

"This! Is the Dib." Zim said with a cheery smile, pointing at Dib's face, turning the page...showing a VERY graphic for a watercolor painting picture of Dib getting messily eviscerated in a page that would have made the Babadook storybook look like "Winnie the Pooh". "And this is what you're going to do to him…"

Elsewhere, the Huntsman had finished his story, a slightly feminine, intrigued voice breaking the silence that had fallen over the two dark figures meeting in secret, hidden from all eyes.

"So the human had help?"

The Huntsman sighed quietly, hanging his head. "I wouldn't normally ask this of you. But I do need help here. The human now has outside assistance. Another Irken, and a psychic from the looks of him. He was able to float down from a roof. No jetpack. No gigantic PAK legs. All on his own mental power."

A pair of pink eyes gazed back into blue, clawed fingers drumming on an arm.

"Interesting. I ain't fought a psychic yet."

"Two heads ARE better than one. And it would be a good challenge for us both."

"Are you sure you're not asking me for help because you can't bring yourself to kill the kid?"

The Huntsman quietly stared back. "I no longer consider him a child. He has proven himself a man. He will die. But I will give him a warrior's death."

"Well, fine by me. But I should warn you…"

Nee-Buh-Loh, the Huntress, grinned a fanged grin. The necklace around her neck, the earing embedded in her right horn, they shimmered in the light of the Earthen moon as she and her brother stood across from each other in the forest clearing. What kind of sister would she be if she couldn't do a solid for her brother, who'd broken her out of prison?

"I hit like a girl."

...

...

...

...when Dib came back to school the next day, everyone seemed quiet, simply staring at him as he walked down the hall, head hung slightly, his head slightly wrapped in bandages. He moved with a slight limp from being thrown through the air, and his head was still swimmy, making him mumble and groan every few steps.

No doubt, all of the students and teachers were wondering just what had happened to him. Mugging? His sister finally snapped? Drugs? Fight club?

But Dib could never tell them. Nobody would ever believe an alien had beaten him up, had almost crushed his head and...

And...

Was now standing at the end of the hallway with a distinctly feminine counterpart who was looking him over. Dib's face went paler than usual, his mouth agape, the other students and teachers nervously looking from him to the interlopers before Gretchen softly spoke up.

"They...c-came this morning, D-Dib. Said to...pretend everything was fine until you g-got here." She murmured, as "Mr. Thildari" put a hand on her shoulder, giving the Huntsman a dark look. He didn't NEED eyes to tell where he was. He could tell. The Huntsman and his sister were giving off an unmistakable miasma, a cold sense of purpose which preceded murder.

"So." Dib said, trying to sound nonchalant. "Who's your friend?"

"I'm his sister." The female alien said, having a slightly more slender set of horns that weren't as thick as her brother's, with two almost cute little horns rising up from her forehead, her eyes a sweet and vibrant pink color. She calmly strolled down the hall, her brother walking alongside her as she rested her head on the top of her palm, looking Dib over. "And you oughta count yourself lucky you survived last time. This time, though, well...we decided to just come right for you, Dib Membrane. Bringing me in is SORT of cheating on the contract that's out on you, but...then again, Zim never said I couldn't come help my brother, so..." She shrugged. "Whatcha gonna do, huh?"

Dib's mouth had gone dry. His guts were going watery, his mind screaming for him to run, but his body remaining rooted to the spot.

"Don't suppose your blind patron feels like revealing HIS true self?" The Huntsman remarked, looking over in Darth's direction as the disguised Irken narrowed his white eyes to dark slits. "And don't be surprised I figured out you were here too. I got your scent. We Cosmo Sapiens are hunters. Trackers. This is what we do. Huntress, would you explain to Mr. Membrane what's going to happen to him now?"

The Huntress grinned toothily. "We're going to finish what was started last night. So here's what's going to happen. You? Are going to come into the gym with us." The Huntress said. "We've made sure to bar it off from everyone else. It's nice and isolated. Zim's waiting there as well. We'll kill you in front of him, pay off my brother's debt, and be on our merry way. And you're not going to do a THING, because, frankly..."

He felt her clawed hand dig slightly into his shoulder as she crouched down, and looked him square in his eyes. "You're a 99 pound weakling still reeling from last night, and unlike my brother, I'm not opposed to kicking someone when they're down."

"And if I tell you to go fuck yourself?" Dib said angrily, as Gaz, watching from afar, whistled a bit, clearly sounding impressed.

"Well, well, well." The Huntress said with a big, toothy grin. "The beaten dog thinks it gets to bark back. I admire your tenacity, if nothing else. But you're out of your league."

"I'm not letting you endanger these people here. And I'm not letting you kill me so Zim can have free reign to do whatever he wants." Dib said with a growl.

"You already DO." The Huntress said, and now she rose up, folding her arms over her chest, looking down at him with a faint air of condescenion and irritation. "You know..." She glanced briefly up at Darth, then at Dib. "I would have thought you'd have learned not to associate with these locusts. You're a damn idiot to think any of them can be trusted. My kind is HONEST, Dib of Earth. We're up front about what we are, and why we do what we do. We don't pretend to be something we're not, and then stab you in the back. Who would you rather have?"

She gestured at Darth, the other students in the school all looking at him with new eyes before she then gestured at her and her brother. "The one who smiles to your face and insists he's your friend before he stabs you in the back, or the one who outright says he's just going to stab you? And you, Mister "Hero"...if you're so smart, why is Invader Zim still alive? You let a wolf in sheep's clothing...TWO of them...stay here among the herd of sheep. If you had any smarts or real integrity, you would have killed them the minute you found out what they were."

"It's not that easy." Dib said angrily. "Or that simple."

" **Sure** it is. Force him into a toilet bowl. Or stuff a water balloon down his throat. He'd dissolve from the inside. These stupid bugs are only covered in paste on the OUTSIDE." The Huntress nonchalantly remarked. "Really, you and Zim STINK. Normally Irkens have a much more...pleasant scent. Like your Earthen sunflower seeds. You bathe in glue and you just smell stale and gross like rotting sweat."

Dib rose up to his full height as best he could and forcibly stuck his finger in her chest, making the pink-eyed alien stare in surprise. "Y'know lady, I've had it with your holier-than-thou spiel! I'm not gonna take MORAL ADVICE from a bunch of murdering mercenaries! You're no better than prostitutes, the only difference is the price you can be bought off for! And I'm not even out of **high school** yet, you're all grown adults, _what's YOUR excuse for not knowing the difference between right and wrong!_ "

A dark, furious look glinting in the Huntress's eyes as she snatched Dib up, slamming him hard into a locker, but he kept her gaze as she whispered darkly, harshly. "You trying to get me mad, kid? It's working. I don't mind doing this right here, right now-"

Then her nostrils sniffed at the air, and she frowned as her brother's eyes went wide. "...that smell...the smell of-"

"Oil and blood, chemicals and..." The Huntsman murmured.

"ROT." Darth finishing as he turned his head in the direction of a foul, terrible scent that was rising. Something even he could smell despite no real "nose". "One of those things, those...mutated beings Zim had worked on."

"He DIDN'T." Dib gasped out, before people's screams filled the air and he realized with a sense of horror as he saw THEM coming down from an opposite hallway that...yes, Zim had. Zim had unleashed four more monsters, right into the school. "ZIIIIIIIIIIM!" He yelled out in a mixture of horror, of fury, or disgust, Zim smirking as he remained hidden...hidden in a closet, watching everything from his Eyepad as the kids ran rushing by, all of them paying no attention to the broom closet.

Save for Gaz, who gave it a single look before rolling her eyes a bit, and getting out her Game Slave from her pocket, plopping down on a bench in the hallway. "Well? You gonna do something about this or what?" She asked Dib and the three aliens as they stared at her, then at each other.

"I could blame you for this too." The Huntress said. "If you'd killed Zim sooner, he wouldn't be able to do this. But..." She looked around at all the terrified children barreling by her. "I think you're already feeling crappy enough today."

"We cannot simply let these monstrous things roam loose." The Huntsman insisted. "I'm only interested in putting an end to Dibbun Membrane and this locust's life for interfering, I've no interest in harming innocents when I can prevent it."

"You're lucky that my brother's so much nicer than I am." The Huntress said with a little chuckle. "And lucky that I'm in a good mood, truth be told. Getting out of prison makes me want to unwind."

She put Dib down on the ground, Darth pressing a button on his belt, his "true" form made clear, with white robes, the green gem on the silver necklace he wore bouncing off his chest as he, Dib, the Huntsman and the Huntress raced down the hall. The Huntress focused as a shimmering pinkish bow and arrow formed in her grip and she drew an invisible drawstring back, the Huntsman forming a large lance as Dib drew out two military-grade buck knifes from his backpack. Thank goodness the school was too poor to afford metal detectors!

"So it's agreed?" He asked.

"Yeah. We can kill each other later." The Huntress said with a smirk. "By the way. The name's Nee-Buh-Loh. My brother's named Neh-Buh-Loh. You deserve to know that too, before you die."

"You're all HEART."


	4. Finale

Zim had gone beyond the pale. He'd crossed the line. And Dib intended to feed Zim his own teeth.

He raced down the long hallway, the lights flickering on and off, the power heavily damaged as the sound of horrific, half primal, half synthetic roaring filled the air. It reverberated through the dark halls as Dib tried to ignore the soft and sticky and foul stench pulsing through his nostrils.

He could hear people screaming. Screaming that was ultimately being silenced. Dib could hear begging and pleading...that too ultimately being silenced. And that ugly, horrific, wet meat sound that he recognized as metal slicing through skin. A sound he'd recognized from his own fights with Zim. Sometimes he'd gotten intense injuries, Zim's mechanical spider-esque PAK legs slashing open his flesh.

There'd been times when Dib and Zim almost nearly killed each other, and Zim had been almost moments away from killing him, or moments from death himself. Dib had never really been saved by Gaz except that one time Zim had tried to turn his organs out on the outside, no, he'd had to rely on chance, his own skills, Zim's need to brag, and, occasionally, GIR's shenanigans.

Once GIR had actually raced over to try and help see as Gaz nonchalantly kept working away at her Game Slave, eager to look at the new Piggy Hunter Game as Zim smirked, his tentacles from his PAK pinning Dib down, his shoulders impaled as he laughed. "See, this is the time when I would tower over you, and mock you. Giving you enough time to overcome me somehow and defeat me. But Zim is FAR too clever to fall for such-" Zim began to say as GIR spilled his SuckMunkey all over Gaz's hands...and her GameSlaveAdvance.

Her eyes turning a furious, baleful red, her body shuddering and shaking, she had launched GIR through the air and he slammed right into Zim, knocking the Irken clear off of Dib, flying across the park and into the fountain, Zim howling and screaming in denial and anger as Dib quickly limped away, Gaz grunting as she followed begrudgingly after him.

But Gaz wasn't even interested in even helping INDIRECTLY. Frowning, Dib shook his head, readying his buckknives as he took notice of the figure off in the distance, at the end of a three-way intersection hallway with one of the teachers now suspended off the ground on mechanical spider-leg-esque tentacles, jutting mecha-jaws, and a horrifying electro-tail like a mixture between a tube and a scorpion's stinger as it sizzled and hissed. Mr. Elliot was long gone...only the machine remained, a tiny little parasite visible in the center of his head, standing by an ugly, foul homeless man who had no face. Not anymore. Now it was just a mass of mandibles, empty sockets pierced open with tubes from within the body, massive claws jutting out of his hands.

"They're spreading, huh?" Dib murmured quietly, looking sad before he ducked his head, one of Mr. Elliot's tentacles sweeping at him and he let out a faintly wildcat-esque roar, Dib diving to the side before he ripped open one of the lockers that was slightly punched-in. One of Mr. Elliot's tentacles slammed against it, trying to smack him down as Dib took a deep breath...

And then shot out from behind the door as the homeless man, the "original infector" raced at him. But Dib ducked, sliding across the floor as he spun around, slicing with his knives. The homeless man in the ugly brown cap and raincoat flopped onto the ground, howling, his legs cut off as Dib shot up, slicing at Mr. Elliot's infected form.

His former teacher reeled back, holding his hands and arms up, his tentacles squirming around, suspended up in the air on his spider-legs before Dib managed to do a backflip, kicking Mr. Elliot squarely in the chin. He went flying back into the wall, Dib cringing, the former teacher deeply embedded as he wheeled around, looking at the homeless man.

Though his legs were clean off, he was now crawling at Dib with a speed that would have made the creepy Sadako from the "Ring" series gasp in alarm, his hair even flowing in that strange, creepy fashion as his hollow, held-open-by-tubes eyes twitched, and the tubes BULGED as if pumping some foul, disgusting liquid through the body, a bit of ooze dribbling out of the mouth like spittle. Dib waited, bucknives held up, waiting...waiting...he knew the man was going to jump, he had to time it right.

He could hear Mr. Elliot tugging himself out and he dove down and forward, sliding onto his belly as the homeless man slammed into Mr. ELLIOT instead, the two of them now embedded in the wall and in a mess of metal and flesh and rebar as Dib rose up, cringing and quivering, holding a knife up, knowing...knowing he'd have to finally, at long last...take a life.

Dib had never...ever...killed anything before. And seeing the Huntsman murder that mutated man in front of his eyes, a man who'd been helpless to fight back after that single, awful strike, it had been too foul, to disgusting to think about. He'd never forget that awful...crunching noise as the man's head had been crushed.

Yet the Huntsman had said there was no choice, that Dib would have done the same thing in the end. That doing this was a kindness. Dib didn't want to think that the murdering alien was right.

Now, looking at these two, he found himself disgustingly agreeing with the Huntsman. It was too late for them. All he could do was avenge them.

The knifes flew through the air...they found their mark, and sliced clean through their necks, severing the heads as Dib moaned, clutching his head, almost doubling over. Ughhhh. "Must...not...vomit..." He muttered out...

Before he heard that ugly scuttling noise and looked up. Oh no. "YOU GOTTA BE SHITTING ME!" he yelled out.

Clearly, Zim had been watching "The Thing", for now he was barreling down the hall, screaming at the top of his lungs, pursued by two "Head Crabs" that were hissing and snarling and scuttling after him. "Crapcrapcrapcrapcraaaaaap!"

* * *

I remember my first meal. My first, living, sentient meal. It had been fifteen weeks. Fifteen weeks since his race had gone extinct. No animals around to hunt. No PEOPLE. With their planet sealed off from the rest of the galaxy, the Cosmo Sapien race had been forced to try and find a new path forward, a new culture, a new way of living. At least, that had been the hope of their jailers.

It hadn't worked out that way. In fact, it had horribly backfired. The majestic Seraphi that had kept their planet sealed away from the universe had checked back within three years, only to find that the species had...gone. And not just vanished...

But gone. Gone CANNIBAL.

Their race were hunters were through and through, going from planet to planet, seeking proper challenges and worthy food. If any natives of the planets ever ended up actually really harming them, the Cosmo Sapien would submit, would teach them anything the inhabitants of the Earth wanted. They were, after all, living galaxies. They had the knowledge of countless worlds within. There was much they could impart to the worthy. Yet knowledge wasn't equivalent to "wisdom".

I understand that now. All my race's knowledge and we weren't wise enough to see our short term solution of hunting OURSELVES had only one result in the long term: extinction. I and my sister became the last of our kind, my sister being the only one who survived because she'd been off-planet at the time. I was left to wander a dead world after consuming the flesh of my own parents.

...I wanted to die. But I couldn't bring myself to end it all. I wasn't just eating for my own sake, I had to think of the multitude within me. Every day I could hear them crying out in agony, planet after planet within my frame suffering from famine and drought and fading resources. Within my body, the drama I had endured on my world played out on countless others. Mothers fought with their children. Fathers squabbled with their sons. Families were torn apart over what little scraps of meat remained and law and order collapsed like a cheap house of cards.

But...there had always been rumors of secret bunkers loaded up with caches of "well-won mementos"…of earned rewards after successful hunts on other planets. I managed to find one. Perhaps I was the only one who did. Hidden away in a mountainside I had punched out of frustration, I found food. Delicious fruit, savory vegetables and...

...and meat in a can.

Women in a can.

Maddy. My first friend. My first meal.

 _"This is fucking SICK." The Huntsman muttered as he looked down at what had crawled out of the can he'd dropped to the ground, eyes bugged out wide, mouth hanging open, shuddering in disgust. "What…sick…depraved…"_

 _"Hi! I'm Maddy. And you?" The tiny little humanoid WOMAN that had crawled out of the can he'd just opened remarked cheerily, smiling warmly at him with soft green eyes, some freckles on her face as she walked towards him, this…odd THING barely even half a foot tall, her black locks flicking back and forth over her shoulder as she walked towards his head and looked up at him._

 _"…er…I'm the Huntsman now. I had to leave my old name behind since my people are all gone. No point in my real name…"_

 _"I can't just call ya HUNTSMAN, can I?"_

 _"…My nickname was "Nebby"." He muttered, his horned head looking down at this face, this earnest, honest face. "This is…I need to just…just hold on." He said, slowly getting up and rubbing his eyes, shaking his horned head back and forth. "Let me see if I can understand this, you're…SENTIENT FOOD?! They…they stuck people in a can on your planet for others to eat?!"_

 _"Yeah, that's how they did things." Maddy said with a shrug, looking up at this strange face, those pale blue eyes, a face of one with definite standards which could not be easily doubted. "We Women in a Can all share a collective consciousness. That way we know how to best appeal in taste and preparation for different classes, genders, species…everybody shares what they remember. None of us were ever eaten by one of YOU before. You're a very interesting looking alien!" She admitted, rubbing his black body, the tiny little dots in his form blinking a bit. "They look like…stars in the night sky."_

 _"They ARE stars. My species are living galaxies." The Huntsman admitted with a nod as he carefully lowered his palm down and helped her up, looking her over. "You're so small…" He murmured softly. "You said your name was Maddy?"_

 _"Yes. We're based off the personality of our originator. Being made into a template for food means you go into a lab every month and take tests, it's good money so a lot of people are fine with being templates for "Vore in a Can"." Maddy admitted with a shrug._

 _"But…you're people." The Huntsman murmured. "I can't eat a person. If you're capable of debating why you can't be eaten, you shouldn't be EATEN! That's…that's not right!"_

 _"We've had other people tell us that too." Maddy admitted as she looked up at the Huntsman, seeing the concern on his almost ethereal face, a sad glint coming to her eyes before she sighed. "Well, uh…would you, perhaps, like to tell me a little about yourself and your kind?"_

 _"My species are Cosmo Sapiens, better known as "The Hunting Party"." He said, sitting down on a full, box, glancing up and out of the exit. "We were sealed off from the rest of the galaxy by beings even more powerful than us. I'm sure they…they wanted to be KIND." He mumbled, hanging his head slightly, looking like he wanted to cry, his voice slightly breaking. "That-that they just wanted us to find a different way, to…to th-think about what we'd done all these years but…we ate up all the animals, then…then we turned on each other just to survive."_

 _"I'm so sorry." Maddy admitted gently as he held her to his chest and she then comfortingly rubbed it, feeling his body. "Mmmmm. You feel soft and warm. Like…like satin that's been left out in the summer sun." She added with a small smile. "You're a nice person, "Nebby". I can tell."_

 _"Thank you." He admitted with a nod. "Would you like something to eat?" He asked of her. "There's plenty of fruit cans here." The horned Huntsman inquired, pulling out a small can and cracking it open with a single claw. He carefully pulled out a slice of the sweet fruit he'd eaten before and gave it to her. She flopped down on his palm onto her back with a THWOOF before munching away on it, eagerly biting into it._

 _"Mmmmmmm. This is good." She admitted, happily enjoying the slice of fruit as he held her in his palms._

 _"I don't have anyone else here." He admitted. "Could you, perhaps…keep me company?" He asked of her._

 _"I don't have that long a shelf life." She nervously murmured out, glancing back up at him. "I…I won't last for more than a week." Maddy mumbled. "The people that made me didn't…didn't want their customers just buying one of us and…and getting close, never buying another. They made us to not last that long so people would keep buying. They weren't in the business of making PETS…" Maddy finished. "I'm really sorry."_

 _The Huntsman looked like he wanted to cry, his eyes brimming up with the makings of tears. He couldn't believe it, not…just when he'd found someone…_

 _"It's alright." Maddy whispered, resting her head against his chest. "You're a nice person. I won't mind."_

 _"I can't hurt you. You're an innocent. I don't want to be like my parents. Even though they only fed when necessary, I...I don't want to take ANY lives. I don't care if I'll die." Nebby murmured to her. "I didn't ASK to be born like this..."_

 _"It won't be so bad to be one with you." Maddy told him comfortingly._

 _"I admit, my kind doesn't just "digest" live meals. We like to…well, "absorb"." He admitted nervously. "What we do is we will take our prey and swallow them whole, that's what my father showed. And we'll carefully recycle normal prey's body to help fuel the many, many worlds within us. He said that their deaths ensured the continued survival of millions, but…it feels wrong to sacrifice innocent lives just to keep other lives alive. Why should WE get to pick and choose who lives and dies?" He asked. "That seems mean. How would some family felt if I had to tell them I needed to eat their son because I didn't wanna die of hunger?" The Huntsman mumbled._

 _"And "absorbing"? How does that work?" Maddy asked._

 _"Well…dad never really explained that. He said it was something I had to "feel", and practice. But…never really got the chance. Haven't found any other animals or…people. Not until you." He muttered, looking down at her. "…Maddy. I don't want to hurt you." He said, carefully lifting her up and licking her clean as carefully as he could, holding her to his chest in his palm._

 _"I know. I'm…I'm sorry. I really am." Maddy whispered back. "…let's get some sleep." She asked. "I'm…kind of tired."_

 _"Alright." He told her, getting off the crate and heading to the back of the bunker, lying up against some pillows someone had brought in with a bunch of blankets, wrapping one over himself whilst she slept down on one nearby. "Sleep tight, Maddy." He murmured softly to her. "Sweet dreams."_

Within a few days, I had to eat her. I spoke gently to her all through it, and wept all night. I hated myself. Hated what I was.

I still do. My claws are tearing through possessed human flesh, ripping spinal cords away, tearing the heads off the infected. I've been forced to kill 3 teachers and one assistant principal, and now-

Oh no.

Oh NO.

It's one of my "hostages", the...the one with the ponytail, that boy who...No, no, no, no. NO. I can't. This is...I can't!

He leaps on me, his mouth full of steely daggers, sharp tentacles now in the place of his hair, his spiky ponytail trying to slice at my face. His eyes are hollowed out now, his sister nearby, screaming in horror. She's yelling so loudly, his roars are like fingernails on a chalkboard. His breath is hot and heavy and rotten, the remnants of his meals dribbling slightly out his mouth, onto me, onto my face, his breath-his breath smells like rotting meat and blood, I can't, I-I-

And then an arrow carries his head off its shoulders, and a good KICK knocks his body clean into a locker. I look up, my sister raising her bow once again, turning his squirming, squealing, headless body into a pincushion as she briefly glances back at me. She must hate me for my weakness. My hesitation.

"That girl needs help." She quietly intones, looking over at the mutated child's sister, who's sobbing in the corner. I can do this much, at least. I gently lean down to her, and take her into my arms. Her body is soft and frail, smelling faintly like milk as she weeps into my chest.

"Let it out." I insist. "There's no shame in this. Let it out. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

Nee must think I'm pathetic.

* * *

It couldn't be more pathetic, Nee-Buh-Loh thought, giving the girl a baleful glare as she stared over her brother's shoulder, seeing Gazlene Membrane nonchalantly heading to the drink fountain, sipping some water nonchalantly, moving her head down to avoid a thrown body. She whipped her head in the direction it had come from, a baleful, roaring, thick-chested young lad smacking his chest with spike-filled arms, one of the parasites embedded squarely in the middle of his forehead. He had arms and legs thicker than sausages, with a bit of a beer gut and an opened-up chest, a secondary "maw" of spiky teeth and a lashing tongue. Nee would have found it disgustingly impressive in design if not for the "disgusting" aspect of it.

"You could help ANY TIME." Nee called furiously out at Gaz, the bully being momentarily barreled over as, of all people, DIB came rushing past him, being pursued by a "head crab" that made Nee snort a bit at how ridiculous it looked. A good arrow of tantric energy manifested from her mighty bow and shot through the air with a whizz, shooting at her prey with the speed and weight of a cannon. The head splattered beautifully in a majestic spray of metal, brains and vitreous fluid, one eyeball flying through the air, flopping onto the fountain Gaz was drinking from.

She looked up at it as it rolled about on the top of it, raised an eyebrow up...and then kept drinking, giving a "huh". Nee groaned, wishing the damn thing had landed squarely on the faucet itself. At least then this overly stoic little brat might have tried to fight back in the name of "inconvenienced vengeance".

The Huntress wasn't as kind as her brother. She knew that. Her brother was, in many ways, a softy. He'd learned the meaning of mercy and compassion thanks to one of Life's greatest gifts...suffering. Happy people, people who never wanted for anything, who had just about anything they wanted, they never had to put themselves in other's shoes. They couldn't identify with others. Sympathy had to be born from pain, from not getting what you wanted, only then could you begin to empathize with others. Dib...that kid, that silly child, Nee knew he'd been suffering all his life. She saw it in his eyes. And because he had suffered, he, in turn, wanted to prevent others from suffering.

This girl, Gaz, had never really suffered. She'd never truly known hardship. She couldn't care less what others felt or endured. If you never knew loss, you'd never know compassion, for compassion was sadness shared.

And Nee knew that because her eyes had, once upon a time, been so much like Gaz's. Innocently insensitive and cruel. She was a bit better now, a fact she took pride in. Enduring torture in an Irken prison had taught her the value of mercy. Especially when you could hear the millions within you screaming out in pain every time you had a hot knife jammed deep into your gut. Felt them squirm. Suffer.

...die.

"You won't be hurting anyone else." The Huntress whispered as the bully let out a roar, and barreled at her, as she launched her arrows straight and true. It tears into his flesh, with a powerful RRRRRRIIIPPPPP, tearing through his ribcage, making him stumble as she wielded her bow like a golf club. She swung it hard, and it struck his chest open with a powerful, awful CRRRRNNCCKK noise that echoed through the air, and organs splattered against her body, making her pink eyes glisten as the blood sprayed forth. She didn't flinch one bit as the droplets sizzled a bit against her skin, the bully writhing on the floor.

"Damn. Thought that would have killed you." She muttered, holding the bow up again. This time, when she brought it down on his head...it did kill him, his skull being forcibly shoved down into the ripped open chest with a wet, foul, meaty sound as she looked up...

Seeing Zim was there, and looking terrified. His ruby/maroon eyes were bugging out wide as he peered out from behind the doorway into the gym, and he saw the raw fury on her face.

"I take it that's the last of your little pets?" She whispered.

Zim sloooowly nodded his head up and down, his body quivering as the Huntress gave him an evil glare...and then an eviller grin.

"Don't go away. My brother and I will be riiiiight baaaaack." She whispered, leaving him to quiver and shake in pants-wetting terror, watching her dark form slinking through the halls as he covered his face, shame flooding through his body...along with something else.

"The WETTENING." He sobbed out. "THE WETTENING!"

...

...

...

...Darth let out a furious yell, and with a clench of his fist, the head crabs that had been surging towards the class he'd been keeping an "eye" on shivered and shuddered, their craniums pulsating and quaking and then...they exploded like melons stuffed into a microwave. The kids "ooohed" and "aahhhed", clearly impressed by this "Carrie" level of power as Dib put a bandage around Becky's leg as she quietly cried.

"It's okay." he said. "It'll get better with time."

She knew he didn't mean her leg. She just softly nodded as he looked at the Huntsman, giving him a nod.

"Thank you for bringing her here."

"Zim's in the gym." A voice announced, Darth turning, hearing the door open as, sure enough, the Huntress entered the room, not carrying her bow anymore, the air around her no longer having that unusual "charge" that let him know when she'd activated it. "I think it might be time, brother...and you too, Dib."

"Are you ready for what comes next?" The Huntsman asked softly, Dib looking up at him, his face briefly flickering with fear before he closed his eyes, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his jacket.

"...go on." He sighed. "I couldn't stop you even if I wanted to, can I?"

"As you are now...no. You can't." The Huntsman confessed. "Please understand, I DO respect what you've tried to do. And I don't honestly want to bring any harm to a child, but...I did promise. I did give my word." The being admitted to Dib as he helped the black-haired young lad up, and led him towards the door. "...you may all come too, if you would like." He offered, turning to his sister. "Could you, ah...get the roof?"

The Huntress blinked a bit...and then realized what her brother wanted to do, giving a nod, and a small, Mona Lisa smile. "Okay. And I'll go announce for all the REST of the school to head on into the gym as well. Which way's the principal's office?" She asked of Darth, who sighed and walked forward.

"I will escort you." He intoned. "I don't even need psychic powers to guess what you're up to." The blind Irken admitted, leading her down the hall, his own little smile beginning to spread.

"Don't think you're getting off easy. I'm just giving you a free pass this time because you helped those children. Consider this the one time I show you mercy." Nee-Buh-Loh offered, giving a shrug as she patted him on the shoulder. Though, in truth, that wasn't the only reason.

She had well and truly looked into his eyes. And she too had seen suffering. She couldn't truly trust Irkens, but perhaps there were a few she could...have some form of respect for.

"I imagine it must have been difficult being blind." She asked quietly as Darth softly exhaled, the sound almost coming out as a hiss as they entered the destroyed principal's office, blood drizzling down from the doorknob, the windows blown open, chairs scattered all around as a decapitated, half-crushed mutated secretary lay in pieces on the table nearby. "Especially for your kind. Why weren't you immediately classified as Defective and terminated? I know how your race operates."

"My mother, my...orginator was Miyuki. One of the Tallest. She wanted to create a child of her own, using her own DNA. She snuck it into a smeeting factory and...well, made me. I was this close..." He held up two clawed digits, making an inch worth of difference. "From being born a woman. I even have...well..." He trailed off.

It was a moment before Nee realized a new pair of emotions was welling in her. Revulsion, yes, but also...pity. "Did anyone ever find out?"

"Yes. Which is why I'm blind." He muttered. "But I didn't get a new pair because I wanted to prove I could still do my job even without it. And being blind allowed me to connect to those I was tasked with interrogating. They couldn't help but sympathize. And I, in turn, found myself sympathizing."

"...you have more integrity than I thought." Nee admitted as they approached the PDA system, and she prepared to make the announcement.

Soon, the entire school was gathered in the gym, with Zim surrounded on all sides, looking positively terrified, smelling worse than ever, and Dib giving him a baleful, furious glare behind his glasses as the Huntsman rested one clawed hand on his shoulder, looking over at Gaz and shaking his head.

"You're not even going to try to defend your brother in some way? You're not even going to ATTEMPT to speak up and beg me to spare his life?" He asked.

She just kept playing her Game Slave, and he spoke up once more. "In case you didn't hear me before, I asked you a question, human!"

"And in case you haven't noticed, I'm not giving you an answer." Gaz muttered back, Dib groaning as he steepled his pointer and middle fingers over the bridge of his nose and deeply moaned, pinching the spot between his eyes, just below where his glasses rested as Nee strolled into the gym.

"Are you ready?" She asked, the Huntsman nodding as she smirked down at Zim. "Well! Good news, Zim. My brother intends to keep his word. Dib is going to be gotten rid of."

"Indeed. I promised you I would claim Dib with all my power." The Huntsman admitted, as his sister then grinned broadly, exiting the gym. For a moment, there was silence as the Huntsman slooowly turned Dib to face him directly, looking right into his eyes, claws slightly digging into the young lad's shoulders. Then...

The roof was swiftly removed, placed to the side of the building as an ENORMOUS Nee-Buh-Loh cheekily peered in, waving, her face delightfully smirking as she seemed to grow larger and LARGER, towering over the school even more before she leapt up, UP into the air, and soared clear away into the skies above, as the Huntsman grinned a little.

"And indeed, Dib. I'll claim you. All of you."

With that, he let go of Dib, and kicked off from the gym, soaring high, high into the sky, his own body growing in size, becoming immensely huge, Dib's mouth agape as he realized...he understood, at last, what the Huntsman was intending to do. For a moment later, he faintly felt the entire planet slightly shudder, and could see high, high above...a distinctly huge, opening maw.

On the other side of the planet, people gaped up at the skies in amazement, a giant, enormous set of teeth enclosing around their world, whilst on Dib's side of the world they could almost SWEAR they felt themselves being pressed down by some strange pressure, as if a giant tongue was forcing them into the Earth. Many struggled to try and rise up, only to flop helplelssly down to the ground, a faint wetness bathing over them as Zim trembled, his mouth agape, a tiny, remote word slipping from his quivering lips.

 _"No."_

 **"Yes."**

They heard the Huntsman's voice say, all around them, within and without, as if every particle of air held the Huntsman's mighty frame.

 **"You will live within me, Dibbun Membrane. Your Earth...in fact, your whole galaxy will now live on within me. I think you and I are going to become good friends."**

He added with a distinct smile to his tone, as Dib smiled, feeling pure, absolute relief bathing over him.

 **"I'll try and take good care of your world."**

"You...you can't..." Zim squeaked out. "You said...you promised..."

 **"Now, now. I did say you would be free to try and take over the planet. By all means, go ahead. Try! But first thing's first. Before you try conquering the planet...try just getting out of the gym alive."**

Zim let out a squeak, his antannae sticking straight up, every single human in the gym giving him a hateful, angry glare, save for Gaz, who looked up, eyes widening as she saw Dib step forward, cracking his knuckles, others moving their Iphones to focus in on all the impending carnage. Before Zim could try to scuttle away on his PAK legs, he felt himself being lifted up in the air, suspended in midair as Darth's voice rang out, a soft white light glowing from his eyes as he cheerily intoned...

"Who wants to see me take off Zimmy's pants?"

Gaz's head immediately shot up like a shark that smelled blood.

"You know Zim, there's something I've been waiting to say to you since the day we met." Dib said cheerily, glaring down at Zim's quaking, terrified face, the Irken paralyzed by raw psychic power as Darth nonchalantly munched on some dark chocolate, Gaz now immediately passing around POPCORN.

Where did she get the bowl?

Nobody would ever know.

"Wh-what's th-that?" Zim squeakily asked of Dib.

"GOODBYE."

"HAVE MERCY!" 

The Huntsman, meanwhile, simply smiled, gently cupping his hands around the little, beautiful blue gem he now had as his sister's voice rang in his ears. "You're such a big sentimental slob."

"Well...it runs in the family." He told her, as Nee Buh-Loh gently hugged her brother, intending to make sure that this time, they never got separated again.

"Yeah." She whispered. "...I guess it does."


End file.
